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A recountal of wavering between freedom and enslavement gives an eavesdropper hope. |
For that girl who told me that I gave her "so much hope" Not that I was heartily tainted But that I was desperate To find some sort of a tranquilizer Something that disengaged me From my own wrecked world It never occurred to me That my desperation Would give you hope And not that it dulled my pain, Tranquilizers are just evanescent You wake up to face Your own wrecked self again But with a more fragile soul For it subsides with every dose, It hangs like a defeated old man's neck That only evokes pity entangled with scorn At first it was private Then it strangled me like a string, Like the way you feel when the air is dry And the bleakness of a gray sky. That was when I decided That the heavy weight on my heart, The smothered cries Should be dragged out from within me Only then I was free Still like a swing Tossed by a wild wind Swinging here, swinging there Enslaved by the wind's whims But how can I tell you? I found my freedom In an outburst of "NO" When the mirror despised The shattered reflection of mine. It despised every part of me. That was when the swing Stood still. And as my own shattered reflection died And my own story of redemption told Your hope was born It never occurred to me That my tale of rebirth Would give you hope |